


Stimulating Reading

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [131]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-10
Updated: 2008-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Booklovers' paradise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stimulating Reading

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex, Ula, and Padawan Sue

"Hey, Quinn!"  
  
Quinn looked up from his book in surprise when he heard Ian's voice. He was sitting in an easy chair on the second floor of the flagship Barnes and Noble in Manhattan.  
  
"Hello, Ian." Quinn's delighted grin was even warmer than his greeting. Nothing like an unexpected date with his lad.  
  
Ian pulled another chair over to sit with Quinn. "Kathy had to cancel my swim-date with Lelia today. Poor kid has a cold."  
  
"Let's visit her tomorrow if she's feeling up to it. I've found some books she might like." Quinn's basket, to the right of his chair, looked colorful indeed.  
  
"That's great, Uncle Qui." Ian smiled into Quinn's eyes. "I took the train into Penn Station after Kathy's call. Thought you might like some company."  
  
Quinn fought off a blush. Amazing, after all these years. Ian's visit, the thoughtfulness behind it, made him feel as if it was their first month together, when Ian would drive all the way to New York just to spend a few hours with him between classes.  
  
Gratitude lighting his eyes, Quinn said, "I could do with a break about now."  
  
"Sounds good." Ian rose and offered Quinn a hand, grinning at how deeply his husband had burrowed into the chair.  
  
Quinn gripped his shoulder in thanks for the lift and so much more. "You want the cafe here? Y'haven't had a chance to browse yet."  
  
"Sure. I'd like to try their spice cake."  
  
Quinn took his basket to the cafe with them, letting Ian see the cover of the book Quinn had been engrossed in when he'd spotted him. "Looks like you found that biography of Twain you've been searching for."  
  
Quinn nodded. "Just in time, too. First class in two days."  
  
Ian sighed. "Summer just flew by."  
  
As they stood on line for their coffee and cake, Ian fished in his wallet for the gift card the Mastersons had given him for his birthday last month. It made him feel loved each time he used it, and he especially liked the idea of treating their son with it.  
  
Quinn grinned at him when he saw the card. "Can't believe you have anything left on there," he chuckled. "I know my folks are generous, but your book-buying habit's more than a match."  
  
Ian's chuckle blended with his husband's. "Too true. But I've still got a few dollars left for our next date."  
  
Quinn's hand came down tenderly on his arm. "That'll be my turn, lad."  
  
They carried their snack to a crumb-free table. Quinn moved the placard advertising a new tea blend to the next one over, so there'd be more room for their trays.  
  
"I'm actually glad the semester's about to start. This advising's another full-time job." Quinn poured a packet of raw sugar into his cup.  
  
"Tell me about it. You've gone in every day this summer, except for our three-day-weekend in Quebec." Ian blew on his coffee, waiting for it to cool.  
  
Quinn hoped it would stay hot for a good long while. "I really needed that getaway." He was back in Old Quebec for a moment, reliving Scarborough Fair, the shimmer of the St. Lawrence River, the sunlight bronzing Ian's hair.  
  
"Loved every minute of it." Ian's eyes shone the color of the river when he looked up at Quinn. "And Lelia's still sleeping with the stuffed timberwolf we got her."  
  
Their niece had redecorated their refrigerator with her coloring-book pictures of the Chateau Frontenac and The Citadel. Blue and green were the little girl's favorite colors, and she didn't hesitate to use them, even for stone buildings and soldiers' sabers.  
  
Alongside Lelia's drawings on the fridge, her uncles waved from the ramparts of the Old City. Every time Quinn opened the door to get lemonade, it was a little oasis in his workday.  
  
"Sure made a nice change from proficiency exams and pre-requisite overrides." Quinn grinned at Ian over his cup.  
  
Ian grinned back teasingly. "You'll feel like you're on vacation again when you're teaching your Twain seminar."  
  
"This time on the Mississippi instead of the St. Lawrence." Quinn winked.  
  
Ian rolled his eyes. "Y'gotta leave the quips to me, m'venno." (husband in Quenya)  
  
"Nobody does it better," Quinn said indulgently. "Ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah, the books are waiting," Ian drawled.  
  
They bussed their trays and used the restroom outside the cafe. Then they headed to the fiction section, where they pulled two chairs together, Quinn put down his basket, and Ian got one of his own. Quinn smiled at the eager look on Ian's face as they set off on their book hunt.  
  
Quinn found a new edition of M.R. James' Ghost Stories of an Antiquary, which had been out of print for years. When Ian grabbed it, they almost got two copies, but settled on the one after Quinn said he'd read it aloud. Ian knew magic when he heard it.  
  
They browsed a bit and skimmed through the color plates of a coffee table book on Saarinen's architecture, but when Ian's watch beeped three o'clock, he pouted up at Quinn.  
  
"We'd better clear out," Ian said. "We'll just miss the rush hour as it is."  
  
"Too true, lad." Quinn rummaged through his basket, weeding out a couple books, while Ian did the same.  
  
They took the escalator to the downstairs registers and stood in line again. The back-to-school frenzy had hit and the men prepared to wait it out.  
  
The cashier called them over in just ten minutes, since there were so many lines open. Ian used his MasterGuard to pay, another unexpected treat for Quinn.  
  
They walked the long blocks to Penn Station, sweaty and grimy in the city heat. They had to wait twelve minutes for the next train to Alder Run, but at least they'd bought round-trip tickets, saving themselves another line.  
  
When the train came, Ian automatically took the window seat, just as he had on the most important train trip of his life, to Windover. Quinn squeezed in beside him, doing nothing to hide the besotted grin on his face.  
  
Ian grinned back and settled in his seat, basking in the air conditioning. He closed his eyes against the sun's glare, dozing off before the first upstate stop. The next thing he knew, Quinn was jiggling his shoulder and they were back in their hometown.  
  
The trees were already starting their autumn rhapsody, and the shade on their walk home kept them almost as cool as the train. Ian heard Sandy barking in welcome before they reached their lawn.  
  
They dropped their books in the hall as Artoo put his paws on Quinn's knees. Quinn bent down to grab an armful of wriggling puppy. Ian picked up Sandy and the four of them cuddled for a while. They all drank water, then the pups napped in their baskets while their dads rested on the couch.  
  
Quinn lifted his arm for Ian to snuggle under, and after a wary sniff, Ian obliged. The AC had triumphed over the city humidity. They just sat there enjoying the sturdy feel of each other as the ceiling fan blew cool over their skin.  
  
Quinn kissed Ian thoroughly, trying to make up for hours of deprivation. He sighed in satisfaction when Ian's lips grew softer with the kissing.  
  
"You feel so good, laddie."  
  
Ian relaxed into Quinn's arms, nuzzling his cheek. "Not as good as you do."  
  
Quinn petted Ian's stomach, big hand covering most of it on each pass. His fingers stroked in a firm massage, just the way Ian liked it.  
  
Ian drowsed on his shoulder, lulled by the hypnotic repetition. When that loving hand pushed up his shirt to touch bare skin, green eyes opened wide and a slow smile lit Ian's face. "Nice."  
  
Quinn smiled back and continued the massage. "That's it. Just relax."  
  
"You're spoiling me, love." Ian kissed the soft hairs behind Quinn's right ear.  
  
"Like you did at the bookstore, hmm?"  
  
Now when Quinn ran his hand over his lad's stomach, he ventured a bit lower and got a little nudge from Ian's half-hard cock on each downstroke. "Like that, now, laddie?"  
  
Ian nodded into Quinn's neck, grinning at his husband's playfulness. "More, please."  
  
Quinn kissed his forehead tenderly. "Soon, my impatient one," he whispered, his fingers straying downward a bit more often in response.  
  
"Ahhh." Ian resisted the urge to capture those tantalizing fingers and keep them pressing on his cock, fully erect by then. He knew Quinn would make it good for both of them.  
  
"You could use another good kiss about now." Quinn suited the action to the word, while letting his hand drift down again.  
  
Ian's cock grew impossibly harder. "Touch me!"  
  
But Quinn wasn't done playing yet. He did touch Ian, but not where his lad wanted him. He lazily ran his hand over Ian's ribs, smiling at his rapid breaths.  
  
Ian's own hand ached to unzip his shorts, so he petted Quinn's thigh with it instead. His breath caught when he felt the heat coming off Quinn's erection, a bare millimeter from his thumb.  
  
Quinn felt Ian shivering under his fingers and realized he'd kept him waiting long enough. "You've been so good. Would you like your reward now, laddie mine?" He gazed into eyes gone dark green with pleading, then finally unzipped Ian's shorts.  
  
Ian gasped when Quinn squeezed the bulge in his boxer briefs. He reached up for a kiss as Quinn stroked him deliciously, alternating between feather-light brushes and firm touches.  
  
"This what y'been wanting?" Quinn teased.  
  
"Too much cotton in the way," Ian growled.  
  
Quinn chuckled. "That so?" he said, and took pity on his husband, opening the pouch to reveal his prize.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Ian moaned.  
  
"Ah, he's a feisty thing," Quinn rumbled, smiling when Ian's cock jumped into his hand.  
  
"For you." Ian felt the callus on Quinn's palm dragging across his foreskin; the bite of the thumbnail Quinn had gnawed while watching his high bar practice yesterday; the dryness of his ring finger from the ground-in residue of white chalk; the gold of the wedding band digging into tender skin; the forefinger swiping pre-come to streak over his erection.  
  
All unbearable turn-ons.  
  
Ian had to grab that hand, his fingers almost sizzling when they touched his own cock, too.  
  
Quinn grinned. "That's it, laddie. Show me."  
  
Ian's hips jerked. "Right *there*," he panted as he guided Quinn's fingers into the perfect rhythm, the perfect pressure. He strained upwards for a kiss while they stroked together one, two, three times, then Ian came into Quinn's hand as his husband swallowed his cry.  
  
Ian slumped against Quinn, as wrung out as if he'd walked home from Manhattan. He smiled when he felt Quinn use his shirt to clean both of them.  
  
"Love you, laddie." Quinn kissed his sweaty cheek. He relished Ian's weight upon him, especially his hand, which had fallen onto his inner thigh. His erection had pushed through the opening of his underwear when Ian had come and was making a serious attempt to rip his shorts.  
  
Luckily, his lad wasn't too tired to notice.  
  
Ian unzipped him carefully and wrapped his hand as far around him as he could get. Streaks of pre-come slicked his fingers, mute testimony to how long his husband had been waiting for this. "Feel how much I love you." He smiled at Quinn's groan. "What's your pleasure?"  
  
"Your gorgeous mouth." Quinn inhaled sharply as Ian bent to lick the tip. A flick of that amazing tongue and another droplet welled out. Quinn thrust up, suddenly surrounded by Ian's mouth.  
  
Ian suckled greedily, careful to keep Quinn's tender flesh away from the edges of a recent filling. Quinn's grunts spurred him on, his tongue swirling over luscious skin. He could feel Quinn's struggle not to thrust too deeply, his husband's fingers gripping handfuls of shirt.  
  
Quinn felt every slick move of Ian's lips and tongue. Little licks teased him, kisses warmed him, nips enflamed him. He knew he was talking but had no idea what he was saying.  
  
But Ian did. He craved each "love you," "more," "need you," "Ian," and "laddie." Almost as much as he craved the taste of Quinn. Ian took him in as far as he could go, while cupping Quinn's testicles, still snug in their cotton pouch.  
  
That was all it took.  
  
Quinn roared as he came into Ian's mouth, feeling his lad swallowing again and again to catch all the cream. He fell back against the couch, barely registering Ian's soft kiss to the crown.  
  
Ian grinned when he realized he'd done such a good job of licking Quinn clean that he didn't need to use his shirt. He tucked the softening penis back in its pouch.  
  
"I've always known books are stimulating, but..." Ian's teasing was interrupted by Quinn's satisfied kiss.  
  
Always the best answer to Ian's mischief.


End file.
